Jason
by Darkfirelight
Summary: Once upon a time, Red hood was Jason Todd... And once upon a time, Jason Todd was Jason Teague. A history, through his eyes and the world itself...


Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, Batman, Jason Todd, Young Justice, Red hood or anything in this story.

Summary: A look into how Jason Todd turned into Jason Teague, and later went on to become Red Hood. Obviously AU, though you could twist it into offscreen canon, I suppose...

* * *

Jason well remembered the manipulative gleam in the shrewd woman's eyes as she looked down upon him in distain. ("Just like his father." She'd murmer disgustedly, as though she could think of nothing that she hated more.)

He remembered being glad, relieved even when his father took him on trips to see the Luthors and the Queens, even Patricia, from the Swann family.

He had no idea what they'd all become... What he would eventually become.

When his father had left to become part of a monastery (Supposedly, though he would not blame the man if he truly had left because of his mother, a peaceful life of abstinance was a nice alternative.) he had taken to doing anything and everything to keep busy, to keep away from the cruel woman that insisted he call her "mother". (Though he never meant it.)

At times he missed the naive child that could have been, the boy that once was. But he'd probably died around the same time as Lex Luthor, or Patricia Swann, or even Oliver Queen. (Because no matter how much you acted, you didn't just "get over" a dead parent, let alone two. Well, not unless they were like _his _parents.)

When he hit ten he was already a rebel, running around on the streets and vandalising public property, ignoring the law. (They never helped me, why should I help them; the laws just something the fat and rich use to oppress those less well off. Even back then he'd been a cynical child.)

In the end he'd gotten overzealous when he had seen the tank-like vehicle, and heard the rumors. (Batman, like that "Warrior angel" comic that Lex carried everywhere.)

He'd looked at it, and he'd felt resentment, anger and hate, so much _RAGE! _(Superhero? He never helped me so why should I help him?)

That mindset had nearly been his downfall; the Dark knight, however, hadn't looked down upon him with distain, or disgust, but... sympathy. (What's with that look?)

Thinking he was just a poor orphan the man had taken him in, given him food, clothes, a place to sleep. (Away from her, away from silent accusations and disgrace.)

Not once did his mother try to look for him, not until she found a use for him, at least.

Under Batman he learnt to fight, to live; he learnt of good and bad, right and wrong, the innocent and guilty.

Time passed and things changed, wackos were fought ("Riddle me this!" "Well, another little birdy with the bat!" "Heads or tails?" "Hehehe, my my, how... interesting...")

It wasn't until he started getting restless that things started to change, that the two started to become... distanced.

He became more and more vicious, he hit harder, pulled his punches less and less. ("Damnit Jason, he would have talked if you hadn't sent him into shock." "Sorry, not my brightest moment, but he got what he deserved.")

Eventually, at the age of seventeen he was being replaced, a young boy (Tim Drake) gained his interest. It's what led to his loss of control... and downfall.

When you lost focus (*THWACK* "GUH!") the birds of prey struck, (*THUNK* "GAH!") they took advantage of your weakness (*CRACK* "AAAH!") to take advantage of you. The Joker... The joker wasn't a bird, Ra's Al Ghul, who hired the Joker, he was a bird. The thugs he hired, they were smaller birds. The Joker... ("GRAAAH!") He was the plague carried inside the bird, festering and eating away at its insides, looking for its next meal.

("My, my. That looked like it hurt..." *CRACK* "...And that looked like it hurt more! HAHA!")

So many broken bones, so many bruises and cuts, scrapes and gashes, welts and pieces, but he tried to stay strong. (Beep, beep, beep) It only got you so far. (BOOM)

-Pain.

Everything was _pain; _even now he remembered the searing agony that flooded through his limbs, emerging from a luminescent pool of hope. The Lazarus pit.

Of course, it wasn't though. It wasn't a pool of hope, of joy and second chances; even Ra'sn Al Ghul could see it.

It was a pool of despair.

It was a pool... of _insanity_.

He'd run, they'd tried to stop him and he'd fought, tried to stop him and he'd _killed_.

Killed like he had only once before. (He slipped, I couldn't stop him from falling.)

(*SMASH*) Stained glass, falling all around him, like a rain of cuts and sharp roses. Some people thought that it was the rain that baptised you, that it was fire or blood or any amount of things that marked your passxage, your evolution.

His baptism, that which marked his ascent into adulthood... He liked to think it was that glass window. The first thing broken. The first of many.

The bomb planted on the batmobile. (Too easy.)

Killing Tim Drake. (Too easy.)

Killing the Joker. (TOO EASY!)

He'd taken up arms, gotten stronger, faster, more skilled... Better. (*THWACK* *CRUNCH* "AGH!" "..It only hurts when I laugh.")

In the end he had accomplished nothing. No vengeance was gained; The Joker may have escaped. (Not good enough.)

Tim Drake recovered from his broken foot. (Not good enough.)

Batman... He beat him. (NOT GOOD... Enough...)

He'd done what he always did; He'd ran.

With burns and cuts and bruises and injuries he'd run so fast and so far until he'd collapsed.

When he'd woken up in hospital he'd started running once more; when he heard that people (His mother.) were looking for him he'd done more than run.

He'd done as was his former namesake...

He'd _flew._

Used his fake ID, hopped onto the nearest flight to Paris and then ran once more. Gotten rid of the red hood, of Robin, of _Todd_; become Teague once more, stopped dying his hair black and dyed it all, white stripe and all, a rich brown.

He'd tried the normal life, tried the romance thing. (Damnit Lana! "Don't give up on me!")

Tried the sports thing. (Jason Teague, I heard you used to be great until your leg injury! *THWACK* *CRUNCH* "GRAH!" "Be a good boy, brush your teeth and remember to do your homework! HAHAHAHAHA!")

But you couldn't fight your own nature, and it was only as he felt the flames lick at his skin and the broken home crumbling around him, the foundations collapsing inward and crushing him (Again.) that he realized that.

God, he was such a fucking idiot.)

-"Where the hell am I?"

Jason Todd pulled himself out of his grave once more, green eyes taking in his surroundings.

Jason Teague was crushed beneath the weight of his own responsibilities.

Jason Todd was crushed beneath the weight of his past, his vengeance and his own twisted ideals.

Jason was burnt, and cut, and crushed, and broken, shattered... And from the ashes a new animal arose.

Jason looked up at the rubble, he lifted his own hand and gazed at his own blood, at his own life fluid, spilt by his own mistaken cause.

"Red..." He stared, transfixed, the urge to cover his face and hide beneath a mask building.

Which mask...

A red hood; staring doiwn at the criminal underbelly, taking control. ("I did that in two hours.")

A black cowl covering his head; he'd finally surpassed... him. ("You won't, not like this!")

"So... Red..."

In the end, people don't change; they grow and adapt, but they never _truly _change.

Jason Teague adapted and became Jason Todd.

And when it was needed Jason Todd adapted and became Jason Teague once more.

But in the end... In the end he wasn't so simple a person, so easy to categorize by name, or designation.

In the end his truest face was the one he could take off.

His truest face was the one that showed nothing, inspired nothing... Nothing but fear.

"Red..." In the end nobody changes, but sometimes, _sometimes..._ Sometimes they adapt, and through it, everything _else _changes. And nothing's the same.

* * *

A tribute to Jensen Ackles, who plays Jason Teague in season 4 of "Smallville" and voices Jason Todd in "Under the Red hood". Both of whom seem to become more and more psychotic as time passes.


End file.
